


The Golden Finch

by GumTree



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: F/M, Modern Westeros
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-10-29
Updated: 2017-10-29
Packaged: 2019-01-26 09:41:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 900
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12554620
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GumTree/pseuds/GumTree
Summary: When "a little bird, from a little man" goes missing, Jaime must must find it at all costs.





	The Golden Finch

**Author's Note:**

  * For [december13](https://archiveofourown.org/users/december13/gifts).



 

 

 

 

 

 

**The Golden Finch: Introduction**

  

“I saw your flyer and look what I found!”

His knuckles were white against the chipping paint as he looked from the smugly smiling jackass in the hall, to the top of the head of the too-blonde boy at his side. But for his innocent hope, Tommen kept a similar grip on his sleeve. In return, Jaime could scarcely remember a time he wanted to lie so badly.

“He’s not… That’s not Ser Tyrion. Is it, uncle?”

“No,” he said, slowly moving his right arm, and Tommen clinging to it, further behind him. He glared at their visitor and might have sold the other half of his soul, if it would have lent him the deadly chill of his estranged father’s gaze. No, it seemed that, either way, Jaime Lannister was destined to be a so-called failure and could only offer a cold smile. “Goodnight.”

Given the ambiance of their new home, he should have expected the foot that jammed itself in the entryway and hand that now battled his weaker left for control of the door. On the other side of the wood, he could hear the bird in question frantically chirp from its wire cage in the commotion.

“You didn’t even look!”

Jaime growled, leveraging his weight and impatiently stamped his foot on the intruder’s. From the time they’d moved in, he’d been _such_ a cunt. “Everyone knows Ser Tyrion has white specks on his wings – no specks, no reward!”

“I was doing us all a favor! You think anyone can sleep or get laid with your brat crying all night? The walls are thin as OUCH--!”

He slammed the door shut, with no small sense of satisfaction, and immediately bolted it. It wasn’t from fear that he did it, just insurance against stupidity. Leaning his back against the wood, his face softened to see Tommen shifting guiltily from foot to foot at the edge of the corner, rather than hidden around it. He was unsure to be impressed or saddened the boy hadn’t run to hide, perhaps due to the dysfunction of his short life.

“Does that mean Mom knows he’s missing, too? Is she upset?”

It still pained him to think of Cersei, and he hoped it wasn’t the same for their boy. To her credit, she had always feigned tolerance of Tommen’s pet, lovingly named after his “other favorite uncle” who gifted him the creature on his sixth name day, when anything else was declared certain to shed and fish tanks were too garish for the Baratheon household.

“No, but she would be impressed at how long he’s lasted. We’ll find him.”

“What if we don’t? Uncle Tyrion promised to visit. What if he’s mad?”

“Your uncle loves you and your sister more than…” He grimaced, thinking of what he could say about Tyrion and his proclivities. “More than kittens love yarn. What about a kitten, haven’t you always wanted one of those?”

Tommen bit his lip, eyes wide, then shook his head from side to side. “Most birds are afraid of cats.”

He briefly entertained the idea of telling Tyrion that his favorite nephew would adore a fur-ball for his eighth celebration. If it didn’t work out, then Myrcella might like something soft and small to take back home in her arms. Jaime sighed. It was bad enough that Tommen wanted his party held here, but if it people found out _he_ couldn’t even keep track of a caged bird…

He squeezed his son’s shoulder gently. “Perhaps when we move, the three of us. Closer to your sister; with her, if you’d like.”

Tommen’s smile was small, almost nervous. “You mean with Grandaunt Genna?”

That hadn’t been what he meant at all. “Well, she certainly has enough room. I’m sure we’re still invited. Or it could be just you and Myrcella…”

The little smile fell. “I know I was supposed to stay with Grandfather. I-I heard everyone fight the night the doctors kept Mom. You said no but ‘Cella was old enough to pick. And h-he said I was weak, like you and…”

Gods, no. He opened his mouth to explain but barely managed the boy’s name.

“I ran, a-and asked her what we were going to do, and she said Dad and Mom didn’t have any sisters, so she would go be a girl with Grandaunt Genna. I could still come, but… if you really did yell at Grandfather like that, I-I would probably like it better, here. I-I do and don’t want to leave, but if you—"

“No.” He knelt before Tommen, who stared at him with wide eyes, and repeated the word in a calmer voice. “Your grandfather misspoke and worries for our family more than anyone. I’m glad you chose to stay with me, until your mother is better. I just wish you were having a better time.”

“But... you’re nice. A lot more than Grandfather.” Tommen bit his lip. “Uncle, who was that man? His poor bird. Do you think he has Ser Tyrion, too?”

Jaime shook his head. This morning he’d noticed that all the flyers asking for the safe return of the escaped bird, no questions asked, were gone. He wouldn’t put it past some idiot to take them all down, then purchase an inexpensive impostor finch to collect the reward. “I think our neighbor is just confused. He won’t bother us again.”

**Author's Note:**

> Dedicated to december13 who asked for something like "Jaime, finch, fluff" because (even though this isn't really what she asked for) every snidget, no matter how much/loudly they chirp as they cheerfully flit about, deserves love and consideration for their prompt. Also, countless thanks to Aerest, who loves december the most and has been invaluable in double-checking me on this bird-tale of mystery.


End file.
